Two weeks later, Year 10 of the SuaChie Calendar, ninth month.
The Tequendama II sliced through the waters of the Dawn Ocean, its wooden hull creaking softly under the assault of the waves. In the captain's cabin, Chewa sat in a carved chair, surrounded by rolled maps and scattered parchments on an oak table. The light of a lantern swayed with the ship's motion, casting dancing shadows on the leather-lined walls. The air smelled of salt and damp wood, mingled with the faint aroma of dried herbs that hung in a corner—a reminder of the Suaza sailors' rituals to calm the seas.
Chewa, his blue tunic faded by his travels, gazed through the small window, lost in thought. Two weeks had passed since his meeting with the Young Chuta in Dawn City, and now he was sailing toward a European-controlled island, near the north of Guanza Quyca. There, according to the Young Chuta's plans, ships with supplies and goods would arrive if the Europeans' response was favorable, while they awaited news from Apqua, the kingdom's envoy.
His mind, however, was not on the immediate mission, but on Great River City, in the North Quyca, where he had reconnected with his son, Chesua. The sea breeze seemed to carry the echo of that conversation, one that had broken the barriers he himself had built. In the past, his encounters with Chesua had been rigid, filled with the formalities of a merchant leader and a young leader. But this time, inspired by the warmth and closeness that Chuta always sought in his relationships, Chewa decided to change.
He had found Chesua in the city's central plaza, surrounded by maps and assistants, awaiting an official report. Instead, Chewa approached with a smile.
"Chesua, how are you? Don't you miss your mother in Central City? Or are you already thinking of getting married and starting your own family?" Chewa asked with some awkwardness.
Chesua, a young man in his twenties with his mother's dark eyes and the firm posture of a leader, froze, his quill suspended over a parchment.
"Father, I..." he stammered, clearly disconcerted.
Chewa noticed the wall between them, a wall he had raised with years of emotional distance, always occupied by the kingdom's affairs. But he did not back down.
"Come, son, it's not all work. What is in your heart?" he insisted, his voice soft yet persistent.
Chesua tried to maintain his composure, responding with short, formal phrases, but Chewa's questions, filled with a genuine interest he hadn't shown in years, disarmed him. Finally, Chesua's eyes welled up, and Chewa, without hesitation, wrapped him in a hug.
"I'm sorry, son," he murmured, his voice breaking. "I have not been the father you deserve."
The plaza, bustling with merchants and artisans, seemed to vanish as father and son reconnected, talking of memories, dreams, and fears. For the first time, Chewa felt he saw the real Chesua—not the leader of a great city, but the man who had formed himself, despite his sorrow.
Amidst that conversation, Chewa shared Chuta's orders.
"The Young Chuta has entrusted me with trade with the European kingdoms," he explained, "and he has recommended that you take control of the South Quyca and Guanza Quyca."
Chesua, excited by the leader's trust, smiled, but a shadow crossed his face. Chewa, ever attentive, noticed. "What's wrong, son? Talk to me."
Chesua took a deep breath, looking at the ground. "Father, I have fallen in love with a woman here, a local... I want to stay in North Quyca, expand our territories and the kingdom's, and build a life with her. I appreciate the Young Chuta's recommendation, but my heart is here."
Chewa was surprised, but the previous conversation allowed him to understand.
"Then stay, Chesua," he said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "The kingdom needs leaders like you, and your happiness is as important as any mission." His son's decision, so firm and sincere, filled Chewa with pride and relief.
A knock on the cabin door pulled him from his memories.
"Come in," he said, straightening up. The captain of the Tequendama II, a man with a weathered face and alert eyes, entered with a map in his hand.
"Lord Chewa, a storm seems to be brewing on our route," he reported, his voice firm but respectful. "The researcher from the Simte Academy reviewed the navigation charts and weather records. He recommends we divert northeast to avoid it. It will be a small delay."
Chewa frowned, his mind calculating the risks. "Will we be in danger? Are the provisions sufficient?"
The captain smiled slightly. "We could be stranded for a couple of months, but we have plenty of supplies... The only thing that will threaten us is boredom."
Chewa let out a brief laugh, relieved. "Follow the researcher's recommendation, captain. We will not risk our safety to rush." The captain nodded and left, leaving Chewa alone with his thoughts.
He looked at the map on the table, tracing with his finger the route to the European island. The mission was clear: await the arrival of the Suaza ships and Apqua's response. But in his heart, the conversation with Chesua resonated more strongly. Chuta had taught him, without saying a word, that human bonds were as vital as strategies.
As the ship rocked under the darkening sky, Chewa felt a certainty: with his son in North Quyca and him sailing toward Europe, the Suaza Kingdom would not only survive, but would forge a future where strength and heart would go hand in hand.
Three weeks later, Year 10 of the SuaChie Calendar, tenth month.
The Tequendama II sailed under a leaden sky, its golden and silver sails billowing against the cold wind of the Dawn Ocean, formerly known as the East. Chewa, standing on the deck, felt the biting air on his face, a contrast to the heat of the lands of South Quyca.
A month and a few weeks had passed since their detour to avoid a storm, and now, according to the researcher from the Simte Academy, they were north of Europe's estimated coordinates. The man, a young man with a sharp gaze and hands full of ink, had recommended they turn southwest to resume the currents that would take them to their destination.
As the ship leaned in the new direction, Chewa, the captain, and the crew spotted several ships in the distance, similar in size to the Suaza Kingdom's Wayamú—medium-sized vessels, but wider and more robust. Through his spyglass, Chewa observed their reinforced hulls and square sails, ideal for transporting large cargoes. "Perfect for trade," he thought, his mind already weaving ideas to discuss with the shipbuilders or the Young Chuta. But the land they encountered interrupted their course, forcing them to divert west and then south.
Two weeks later, Year 10 of the SuaChie Calendar, tenth month.
The silhouette of the island appeared on the horizon, its rocky shores softened by the glow of the morning sun. Two first-generation Tequendama ships, with their unmistakable sails marked with the moon over the sun, came out to meet them. One was the vessel of Captain Sogeking, the King of Shooters, with its characteristic sail, visible even from a distance. Chewa, from the bow of his ship, felt a wave of relief.
When Sogeking boarded the Tequendama II, the two men greeted each other with a fraternal embrace, the air filled with the salty aroma of the sea and the creaking of the ropes. Seated in the cabin, with a table covered in maps and a pitcher of fermented corn drink, they began to chat. "What delayed you, Chewa?" Sogeking asked, his voice ringing with a mix of curiosity and mockery. "Did you get lost in the Dawn Ocean?"
Chewa laughed, shaking his head. "We avoided a storm, captain. The researcher insisted, and I didn't want to risk the cargo."
Sogeking let out a hearty laugh. "A true traveler of the Dawn Ocean must face at least one storm, Chewa. Otherwise, you're just cargo being transported." His tone was light, but his eyes shone with the camaraderie of someone who had faced untamed seas.
Chewa changed the subject, eager for news. "Were you able to negotiate the port with the Portuguese?"
Sogeking grimaced, leaning back in his chair. "At first, it was complicated... They looked at us as if we were sea demons. But some gold bars from the kingdom softened their hearts. We bought the second largest island, and we're already trading food brought from our lands. The Europeans can't resist our fruits and spices."
Chewa felt a spark of excitement. This meant his role as Chuta's designated merchant was already underway, without him even managing it. "Details?" he asked, leaning forward.
Sogeking shrugged. "That's not my business, my friend. Chuta's envoy on our expedition will inform you better. But I'll tell you this: Apqua left weeks ago for the capital of the Catholic Kingdoms. The Lightning Division's ship returned with news. He has now returned to the port of Palos, awaiting a response."
Chewa frowned, intrigued. "How does that ship pass through European ports without problems?"
Sogeking smiled, showing a chipped tooth. "That fellow Columbus gave them a flag of the Kingdoms of Aragon and Castile... It's like a free pass. No one dares to shoot at it. And even if they did, I doubt very much they could hit it... I feel that even my King of Shooters would be unable to hit it, and I have the best sailors in the Kingdom. Hahaha"
Chewa nodded, not paying much attention to the naval topics. His mind was teeming with commercial ideas. A flag as a safe-conduct could open doors to markets they hadn't yet imagined.
A month and a half later, Year 10 of the SuaChie Calendar, twelfth month.
On the newly named Link Island, Chewa was in his new office, a stone and wood structure built with the mortar mix and wrought iron bars sent by Chuta. The island, bought from the Portuguese, already housed homes, a large port, and essential buildings, erected in a little over a month with cheap local labor and the protection of the Suaza fleet.
Chewa, sitting behind a desk covered with documents, reviewed reports on trade with Guanza Quyca, where the settlements were beginning to become self-sustaining—a milestone that filled his chest with pride. Supply ships from the great African towns arrived regularly, consolidating the kingdom's trade route.
As he read, an assistant entered with a sealed letter bearing the symbol of the moon over the sun. "It arrived today, sir," the young man said, bowing before leaving.
Chewa frowned; the last ship from the kingdom had docked days ago. If the letter had been sent from the Kingdom, it should have been delivered to him much earlier. Cautiously, he broke the seal and read.
It was from a direct assistant of Chuta, detailing a secret mission to accelerate ties with Europe through unofficial channels. A nobleman on the border between Portugal and the Catholic Kingdoms supported their commercial movements but requested a reward.
The assistant suggested that, in two years, the Suaza Kingdom could indirectly control certain European territories covertly. Chewa, incredulous, held the letter over a candle, searching for the hidden marks of authenticity.
A moon covering a sun appeared under the heat, confirming its origin. His heart skipped a beat.
He reread the letter, each word resonating with Chuta's foresight. The warnings of danger that the child had uttered years ago were not mere childish fears; they were part of a master plan.
Chuta sought not just trade, but control, weaving a network that would span continents. Chewa marked the indicated points on a map with drops of water, as the letter instructed, and then burned it, watching the flames consume the paper. He collapsed into his chair, overwhelmed.
He looked at the sky through the window, where the stars twinkled over Link Island, and whispered: "Thank the gods for giving us the Young Chuta."
His mind danced with the plans of the child he had known babbling about impossible ships. Now, he understood that every generous gesture toward the Europeans was a calculated step toward a future where the Suaza Kingdom would not only survive, but dominate.
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[A/N: CHAPTER COMPLETED
Hello everyone.
Another chapter of Chewa, and to give his character even more depth, I showed a better connection with his son Chesua. At the same time, the stories are connected from Columbus's perspective.
Unnecessary Fact of the Day: On the map in the previous chapter, I marked a specific tribe. The Saadi. This is because they will become a dynasty in a couple of years that will unify almost all of Northwest Africa, even confronting the Ottoman Empire.
By the way, I haven't had much time to respond to the comments, and I know there are some questions left from the previous chapter. I promise to respond as soon as I can.
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Read my other novels.
#The Walking Dead: Vision of the Future. (Chapter 83)
#The Walking Dead: Emily's Metamorphosis. (Chapter 29)
#The Walking Dead: Patient 0 - Lyra File (Chapter 9) (PAUSED)
You can find them on my profile.]